


Shelter from the Storm

by AppleSeeds



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Coworkers - Freeform, Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Getting Together, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), Minor Injuries, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pining, Sharing a Bed, Touching, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds
Summary: They're coworkers in town for a conference, but a storm has knocked the power out in the hotel where they were supposed to be staying, so Crowley and Aziraphale brave the storm and find their way to a charming little B&B, which has one room available, and it's the honeymoon suite, which only has one bed, and now Aziraphale is injured and needs to be looked after, and oh no now the power's out here too but at least they have the soft flickering glow of the candlelight but OH NO the heating's gone off too and it's getting VERY cold and Newt's the one trying to fix it... whatever will Aziraphale and Crowley do?AKA, what happens when I try to squeeze as many tropes as I possibly can into one story.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 71
Kudos: 234
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Water

**Author's Note:**

> My Christmas gift to you all is TROPES. This story is silly and self-indulgent but I also think it's sweet, hope you enjoy it! :-)
> 
> Thank you to rapunzel713, Oniria_Creation and Wizzy Gold for their input!! <3

Aziraphale dropped his beaten old tartan suitcase onto the floor and shivered violently, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket with the intention of wiping the raindrops from his face, but finding that it too was soaked through.

“Fucking hell!” Crowley growled as his suitcase on wheels became lodged in the door of the quaint little bed and breakfast they were seeking refuge in, until he violently jostled it free. He jerked it so hard that it fell over and then Crowley seemed to give up entirely and relinquished the handle, running a hand through his long hair, which was darkened from the rain and sticking up in all directions from the gale-force winds blowing outside. “I’m soaked!”

Crowley shook his head like a dog coming out of the sea, and his hair fluffed up even more.

“Yes, me too. It is coming down rather hard now.”

“Understatement of the century,” Crowley grumbled. With a wince and a displeased groan, Crowley peeled his jacket off and held it away from him like it disgusted him. His shirt was soaked through too. It had already been tight, just like all of Crowley’s clothes, but now it was clinging to him, and Aziraphale found it hard to tear his eyes away. “You have a leaf...” Crowley began, leaning forward without warming, his fingers finding their way into Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale experienced another violent shiver, although this one seemed to be more directed towards a particular part of his anatomy, as Crowley carefully teased apart his wet curls, his fingertips grazing Aziraphale’s scalp. When he withdrew his hand, Crowley was twirling a leaf by the stalk between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh... thank you.” Aziraphale was relieved that his cheeks were certainly already bright red from the cold and the wind whipping forcefully against them as the two of them had fled from the hotel they were _supposed_ to be staying in for this conference. That was before the storm had knocked the hotel’s power out, forcing them to seek other accommodations. At least he wasn’t alone; everything would be ok as long as Aziraphale had Crowley with him.

Aziraphale and Crowley worked for the same company in different teams, and Aziraphale could honestly say that Crowley was the only person at work he had developed any sort of friendship with. He often had to endure the snide remarks from his teammates about ‘fraternising with the enemy’ whenever he slinked off to lunch in the basement office, as they refused to accept that anyone in the Finance team could actually be _nice_. Probably just because of all of those ridiculous purchases and expenses claims they’d had refused. Aziraphale thought back to the first time he and Crowley met, in the lift on his way down to Finance on Gabriel’s behalf, to argue about one such occasion. Aziraphale didn’t agree with Gabriel, no sane person would have, but he had felt he had no choice but to comply with his instructions, anxiety prickling at the back of his neck as he considered everything he’d heard about the _demons_ who worked in Finance.

_“Oh fucking sodding shitting hell!”_

_The outburst from the other man in the lift made Aziraphale jump even more than the lift jerking to a juddering halt. The lights flickered and Aziraphale peered anxiously up at them as the other man started frantically pushing buttons on the control panel, which was no longer illuminated and was clearly not going to respond no matter how insistent he became. Aziraphale thought he seemed rather anxious, but that wasn’t the first thought he’d had about the man. His first thought about him had materialised in his mind when he had first stepped into the lift, and was something along the lines of, ‘well, you look rather scrumptious, don’t you?’_

_“Come on!” the man yelled, jabbing his forefinger against the button for the basement._

_“Perhaps we ought to use the alarm?” Aziraphale suggested, keeping his voice calm despite the churning in his own stomach. He didn’t want to cause the man to feel any more anxious than he already did._

_“Right, yeah,” the man mumbled, taking a deep breath and jabbing the bright yellow button with the bell on it, connecting him to the building’s security, who assured them they would have the problem resolved in no time._

_“Let’s sit down,” Aziraphale suggested with a smile, gesturing to the floor. The man performed an elegant manoeuvre, dropping down to the floor fluidly and crossing his lovely long legs in front of him. Less elegantly, Aziraphale settled down beside him. “I’m Aziraphale, by the way. I work in HR.”_

_“Crowley. Finance. So... what was bringing you down from your fancy top floor office to our dingy, windowless basement, eh?”_

_“Oh, well, I...” Aziraphale stuttered, he really didn’t want to make an enemy of the glorious creature sitting beside him, especially not while they were trapped together in a confined space. “My boss, Gabriel...”_

_“Ugh, Gabriel.”_

_“Quite, yes, rather. Well, he wanted me to enquire about his most recent expenses claim...”_

_“He put in a claim for a fucking £120 fancy scarf. He said he needed it for business purposes. Honestly, he thinks because he’s senior management he can get away with murder. We told him to fuck off. Is that what your enquiry was about?”_

_“Erm... yes, actually, it was.”_

_“Well, you can tell Gabriel that if he’s not happy I can suggest some places he might want to shove that fancy scarf. It’ll only require a slight adjustment, I mean, his head’s already shoved so far up there I’m sure his neck could be accommodated too.”_

_Aziraphale felt a pang of guilt for doing so, but couldn’t help but giggle, earning him a delighted smile from Crowley that made it well worth betraying his boss._

_“I might paraphrase a little, if you have no objections.”_

_“No objections, be as creative as you like. I’m sure you’ll get the message across.”_

_“Oh, yes, I will. Thank you, Crowley.”_

_“My pleasure, Aziraphale. You actually seem all right. One of Gabriel’s angels being a decent human being, who’d have thought?”_

_“Oh dear, is that what you call us?”_

_“As if we don’t know you call us demons.”_

_“Well, perhaps some of my colleagues do, but I must say, there doesn’t seem to be anything demonic about you at all.”_

A flash of lightning illuminated the reception area of the B&B, followed almost immediately by an ominous explosion of thunder that Aziraphale felt rumbling deep in his chest. He flinched as a droplet of rainwater dripped from his hair onto the back of his neck, and briskly wiped it away before wringing out his hair as best he could.

The door behind the reception desk opened, revealing a woman with red hair wearing brightly coloured clothes, who looked the two of them up and down in horror.

“Oh you poor dears! You look like drowned rats!”

“How kind,” Crowley muttered under his breath.

“Ah, yes, we got caught in the rain,” Aziraphale explained, as if that weren’t the most obvious thing in the world, as though perhaps she might have thought they had come from a swimming tournament where all the participants were expected to be fully clothed in attire appropriate for the workplace.

“Well, welcome to the Crystal Ball Inn, I’m Tracy, the owner,” she smiled. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No, I’m afraid not. We’re in town for a conference, but the hotel we were staying in suffered a power failure in the storm, damage they informed us they won’t be able to repair until tomorrow, I’m afraid. I do hope you have rooms available.” Aziraphale fixed her with his trademark puppy dog eyes, hoping his dishevelled, ‘drowned rat’ appearance would lend additional weight to it.

“I do have one room available.”

“Fine, good, we’ll take it,” Crowley interjected, approaching the reception desk.

“It’s the honeymoon suite,” Tracy clarified.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Crowley replied immediately, squirming uncomfortably in his wet clothes. Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he looked between his colleague and Tracy, before glancing back through the windows at the storm outside, the rain pelting loudly against the glass. “Right, Aziraphale? Come on, angel, _please_ don’t make me go back out in that! I’m freezing!”

“Oh, yes, of course, no problem at all. Tickety-boo.”

“Tickety-boo?” Crowley questioned with a raised eyebrow, then shook his head and turned back to Tracy. “Never mind, we’ll take it, thanks.”

Because he worked in the Finance team, Crowley had the privilege of holding one of the company’s credit cards. In what was an excruciatingly slow and challenging manoeuvre, he managed to tug his wallet free from his trousers (and they were clinging to him too... _really_ clinging to him, the way Aziraphale wished _he_ could be clinging to him) and handed over the card with wet hands, his hair dripping water onto the counter.

Once the payment had been processed, the woman handed over the key to Crowley, and they both picked up their cases and climbed the stairs to the top floor. Aziraphale couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncomfortable, even his _arse_ was cold thanks to the rain seeping through to his pants, and he wanted nothing more than to get into the room and strip off, maybe jump right in the shower... but of course Crowley would be there with him, in the _honeymoon suite_.

Crowley opened the door, flicked the light switch and threw the key down on the nearest available surface. He’d apparently had the same idea as Aziraphale, as he immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, not seeming to pay any regard to the fact that Aziraphale was stood there, frozen in the doorway, watching him, Crowley’s fingertips gliding their way down the sodden fabric, gradually revealing more and more of his chest until eventually he tugged his shirt off, battling with the sleeves as they stuck to his arms and ending up aggressively throwing it to the floor. Crowley stood there, evidently completely unaware of the effect he was having on Aziraphale, even reaching for his belt buckle, and Aziraphale knew he should probably say something, but he had forgotten what the _concept_ of words meant, let alone how to _use_ them. The tips of Crowley’s hair were now plastered to his shoulders, sending rivulets of water cascading down his lean chest and stomach, and Aziraphale followed them with his eyes.

“I’m freezing, do you mind if I get in the shower first?”

“No, no, of course not!” Aziraphale replied overenthusiastically, relieved to have actually remembered how to form a few words out loud. “Please, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

Crowley had already unbuckled his belt before he made it into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Aziraphale heard the sound of the shower spray almost immediately, along with some cursing, which he suspected might have been a result of the struggle Crowley was inevitably facing trying to extricate himself from his trousers.

Aziraphale took a deep breath, grimacing when his chest expanded against his own wet shirt. He let his gaze wander around the room, taking in the grand old four-poster bed with canopy and curtains tied back with red rope, and crimson sheets that looked soft as silk with two white fluffy bathrobes folded neatly on top of them. Each pillow had a heart-shaped chocolate on it, because, well, of course it did. Aziraphale briefly considered just eating them both before Crowley got out of the shower, there was no way he had noticed them when he came in, and that would save them from any awkwardness later. That said, Crowley hadn’t seemed awkward at all. Of course he hadn’t, they were friends and this was nothing but a warm, dry place to spend the night. Aziraphale really needed to stop his mind from running away from him with thoughts of Crowley tangled up in those sheets, with his hair cascading artfully over the pillow...

Aziraphale shook his head and hurriedly stripped off, working as fast as he could to undress while he could still hear the shower running and then slipping on the luxurious bathrobe. He sat down in one of the chairs at the small table in the corner of the room, using the sleeves of the robe to dab at his face and hair in an attempt to dry them. Aziraphale shivered again, clutching his arms across his chest and running his hands up and down his arms, but at least the room was warm, and once he’d had a shower he was sure he’d feel much better. He heard the shower shut off with a slight squeak, and then his eyes immediately drifted to Crowley’s suitcase, lying abandoned by the door. _Oh... oh no._

Aziraphale stood and started looking about himself like an animal trying to calculate an escape route from a predator, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, as Crowley emerged from the bathroom, his hair just as wet as it had been before he stepped into the bathroom but now sending the delicate scent of apples drifting into the room, his naked body covered by nothing but a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist. Aziraphale’s eyes widened, adding feet, ankles and calves to the image of Crowley shirtless that he had acquired earlier to the secret repository in his brain, as Crowley hurriedly retrieved his suitcase with a mumbled apology before retreating back into the bathroom.

_Good Lord._

Unwilling to make the same mistake, Aziraphale carried his suitcase over to the bed and opened it up, contemplating the contents for a while. Honestly, all he really wanted to do was get into his ultra-comfy tartan pyjamas and order room service, but he decided to wait and see what Crowley was wearing before committing to anything. Crowley reappeared moments later, a small towel now wrapped around his hair, and Aziraphale was equally relieved and unsettled to see that Crowley was indeed wearing pyjamas, but unlike Aziraphale’s long-sleeved, full-length, cover-absolutely-everything pyjamas, Crowley’s consisted of a loose grey T-shirt and black shorts.

“S’all yours. Careful though, the floor’s wet, it’s slippery.”

“Right, of course, thank you,” Aziraphale responded, directing most of his attention towards his suitcase as he extracted his pyjamas and wash bag (Aziraphale wouldn’t be using the generic toiletries provided by the B&B, he had standards) and hurried to the bathroom, forcing himself not to look at Crowley as they passed, Crowley just sauntering casually past him into the bedroom.

Aziraphale pulled the bathroom door closed behind him, hanging his pyjamas up on a hook on the back of the door, then unfastening his robe and hanging it beside them. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his cheeks flushed and his hair in complete disarray, embarrassed for a moment that Crowley had seen him in such a dishevelled state, before resigning himself to the realisation that Crowley almost certainly had not noticed nor cared.

Aziraphale stepped over to the bath, leaning over to turn on the water. It shot out at high pressure and scalded his arm, and Aziraphale retracted his arm and leapt back instinctively, slipping on the wet tiles and landing hard on his arse. “Oh, _fuck_!” he yelled, grimacing as he registered pain not only in his arse, but his shoulder, which had struck the side of the bathtub, and his foot, which was throbbing and sending shooting pains up towards his ankle. As Aziraphale tried experimentally to move his foot, the bathroom door burst open, letting in a cool gust of air, and Aziraphale frantically scrambled onto his side, trying to curl himself up and hide.

“Crowley!”

“What? I heard a bang and you shouted, I thought you were hurt!”

“I _am_ hurt! But Crowley, I’m naked!” Aziraphale protested in horror.

“It’s fine, I’m not looking!” Crowley insisted, and when Aziraphale dared to twist around to look up at him, he saw that Crowley was indeed facing the wall, his palm held out to block any view of Aziraphale from his peripheral vision. “What happened?”

“I slipped.”

“I told you the floor was slippery...” Crowley pointed out unhelpfully.

“I know, I didn’t do it on purpose! I turned the shower on and the hot water made me jump. It was an instinctive reaction, Crowley, I really couldn’t help it.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. Where are you hurt?” Crowley asked, his voice taking on such a sincere, caring tone that it made Aziraphale shudder.

“I think I might have sprained my foot.”

“I’m gonna pass you a towel and then I’ll come and help you, ok?”

“Yes, all right...” Aziraphale mumbled sheepishly, his stomach twisting itself into knots at the thought of Crowley being so close while he was naked. Without turning his head, Crowley reached out, his arm flailing around a bit as he searched for the towel rail, seizing a towel and stretching his arm out vaguely in Aziraphale’s direction. Aziraphale shifted slightly to be able to reach it, and then wrapped it around as much of him as he could.

“Decent?”

“I suppose.”

Aziraphale shrunk into himself as Crowley turned around, scrutinising him with concern for a moment before crouching down beside him. “Which foot?”

Aziraphale nodded towards his right foot, which he had stretched out in front of him, the other curled up safely out of the way. Crowley reached out and squeezed Aziraphale’s foot gently and Aziraphale sucked in a breath between gritted teeth. Crowley’s hand moved a little higher, his long fingers wrapping around Aziraphale’s ankle, making his skin tingle and his heart quicken. “Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Aziraphale choked out. “You do work in _Finance_.”

“I know about other things too! I think you were right, it’s probably sprained, but hopefully it’s mild, and at least your ankle is ok.”

“I’ll never be able to stand up in the shower now!”

“You could take a bath.”

“I won’t be able to get in. Or out, for that matter.”

“I can help you,” Crowley offered nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. Crowley was athletic (which possibly explained his confidence to diagnose Aziraphale’s injury), he probably had lots of experience of sharing showers and changing rooms with other men and was completely unfazed by the idea of doing such a thing. Aziraphale, on the other hand, was mortified.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Not asking, ‘m offering. Shift out the way and I’ll run the bath.”

Aziraphale’s face contorted with feigned annoyance and he scooted out of Crowley’s way, being careful not to put any pressure on his injured foot. Crowley stood up, bringing his arse to Aziraphale’s eye level, which Aziraphale considered to be downright _inconvenient_ , and reached up to grab a bottle of something from a shelf beside the bathtub. Crowley’s T-shirt rode up a little with the motion, and Aziraphale’s gaze flicked slightly higher, to the expanse of skin that was exposed in the process. He shifted his weight and made sure the towel wrapped around him wasn’t hugging him too tightly.

“Complimentary bubble bath,” Crowley grinned. Oh good, there would be _bubbles_ ; bubbles would conceal _something_ at least. Crowley bent over to put the plug in the bath and turn on the taps, leaving Aziraphale knowing he should look away but finding it quite impossible to do so. This was so wrong, lusting after Crowley while he was just being a good friend and trying to help him, and Aziraphale really needed to get a handle on it, because soon Crowley would be touching him again, helping him into the bathtub, and Aziraphale wouldn’t have the towel to hide behind.

Crowley emptied the entirety of the little bottle of bubble bath into the water and bent over _again_ to swirl it around with his hand, encouraging the bubbles to form. Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall backwards.

“You ok?”

“It’s not been the best day.”

“I know. You’ll feel better when you’ve had a bath and warmed up.”

Crowley had never spoken to Aziraphale so softly before. Aziraphale supposed he’d never had cause to, but his low, comforting voice was doing all manner of things to Aziraphale that he could really do without right now.

When the bath had filled, Crowley crouched down and wrapped his arms tightly around Aziraphale, his fingers digging into Aziraphale’s naked flesh. Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, in what Crowley apparently interpreted as an expression of pain. “I’m sorry, where does it hurt?”

“It’s all right, I’ll be fine,” Aziraphale croaked breathily, wrapping one arm around Crowley, who felt so incredibly warm, and the material of that T-shirt was so _soft_ , while keeping the other hand securely holding onto the towel. Crowley helped him to his feet (well, _foot_ ), and then they looked at each other for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, neither moving to do anything else. Crowley blinked.

“So... er... how do you want to do this?”

“It was _your_ idea!”

“Right, yeah, true. Ok... I guess you’ll have to sit on the edge of the tub and then kind of swing around.”

“I wish we’d thought about this before I stood up.”

“Yeah. It’s ok though, you can keep your foot elevated, just squat down.”

“This may come as a shock to you, Crowley, but I’m not particularly adept at squats!”

“It’s only _one_ squat.”

“On one foot.”

“You’ll be fine, I’ll keep holding you, come on. You just need to use your other hand to steady yourself on the edge of the tub.”

“I’m holding the towel.”

“I promise I won’t look. I _promise_ , Aziraphale. You can trust me,” he murmured softly, his mouth far too close to Aziraphale’s ear. Aziraphale’s breathing quickened, and it would have been impossible for Crowley not to notice. “Hey, it’s ok. I’ve got you.”

That _did not_ help.

Aziraphale let the towel fall to the floor, keeping his eyes on Crowley’s, mostly to ensure he would keep his promise and not look. Aziraphale had hoped that, maybe one day, Crowley would see him naked, but he had certainly never imagined it happening under these circumstances. His thigh burning pretty much instantly, Aziraphale squatted down, reaching out for the edge of the bathtub and lowering himself onto it, with Crowley holding onto him, holding onto his _naked body_ , and smiling reassuringly all the way. This was a complete nightmare.

“Ok, good, now just swing around and put your good foot down, and lower yourself in.”

Right, ‘just’, because _that_ would be easy. With Crowley holding him steady though, Aziraphale did manage it, and was soon settled into the comfortably hot water, surrounded by millions of bubbles so he could at least stop worrying about Crowley _looking_.

“That wasn’t so hard,” Crowley smiled, and Aziraphale scowled at him. It seemed to be the only way to effectively cover the fond smile he actually wanted to give him.

“I suppose I should say thank you.”

“Don’t say that, it’s my fault you fell. Though I suppose I _did_ warn you,” Crowley teased, and Aziraphale sunk down further into the bath. Crowley held out Aziraphale’s wash bag to him, and Aziraphale took it with a grateful smile. “Well... I’ll leave you to it. Give me a shout when you’re ready to get out. Please don’t try to do it on your own.”

“All right, thank you.”

Crowley smiled and nodded, and once he’d left the room and closed the door behind him, Aziraphale slid all the way down into the tub and dunked his head under the water for a second before sitting back up and running his hand through his hair. Well, at least he was warm now.


	2. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley takes care of Aziraphale, and they experience some more bad luck. Sleeping arrangements are discussed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!! :-) LOADS more tropes for you in this chapter!

“Crowley,” Aziraphale called in a voice that he knew wouldn’t be loud enough to attract Crowley’s attention from the other room. He grimaced and tried again a little more loudly. Most of the bubbles had disappeared by now, so Aziraphale had rotated himself slightly onto his side for the purposes of discretion, but when Crowley opened the door, he once again faced the wall.

“Hey, ready to get out?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Feel any better?”

“Certainly warmer. Probably a little drier too,” he joked, splashing the water, his heart performing a little somersault when Crowley laughed.

“Do you think you can get yourself up onto the edge?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Aziraphale reversed his manoeuvre from earlier and swung his feet around, pressing the sole of his uninjured foot to the floor but keeping the other one dangling in the air. At least the pain hadn’t got any worse, that was probably a good sign.

“Catch!” Crowley instructed, throwing Aziraphale a towel. He caught it and used it to dry his face and to squeeze most of the water out of his hair before wrapping it around his middle. “Can I look now?”

“Yes.”

Crowley approached, holding another towel, and crouched down on the floor in front of him. Aziraphale unconsciously drew his knees closer together, and Crowley wrapped the towel carefully around Aziraphale’s injured foot, gently patting it dry. He then unwound the towel and began rubbing it over Aziraphale’s calf, and was drying his other foot before Aziraphale’s brain actually engaged enough to say anything.

“What are you doing?”

“Is this not ok?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Aziraphale equivocated.

“I don’t mind, it’s easier than you trying to do it without hurting yourself. If it makes you uncomfortable though, I’ll stop.”

“No, it’s fine, of course. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes, trying to pretend that the sensation of Crowley rubbing the towel up and down his legs was just the action of his own hands. Unfortunately, closing his eyes only served to heighten Aziraphale’s awareness of that sensation, and his mind supplied no imagery other than that of Crowley, smiling at him, taking care of him, his hands on Aziraphale’s body...

Aziraphale opened his eyes when he felt Crowley withdraw, but Crowley apparently hadn’t finished, coming to sit beside Aziraphale on the edge of the bathtub and rubbing the towel over his neck, his shoulders, his back, his chest and then each of his arms. Aziraphale watched him this time, losing himself in the sensation, his whole body tingling and thrumming with arousal. This was _beyond_ inconvenient.

“Who was at the door?” Aziraphale croaked, remembering the knock and muffled voices he’d heard about ten minutes ago and desperate to break the silence and intimacy of the moment as Crowley continued to dry him. He grimaced at the way his voice wavered, and cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“Oh, just Tracy. She brought up a bottle of champagne with some strawberries and cream. She said it came with the room.”

“Oh now, really! I assume you didn’t accept them?”

“Of course I did! Can’t expect me to turn away free alcohol! And when have you ever turned away free food?”

“It depends on the quality of it.”

“I know, you have _standards_. It all looks really nice. Look, we’re stuck here, might as well indulge ourselves and enjoy it.”

_Enjoy_ it, right. Aziraphale _had_ had plans to _enjoy_ this evening before the storm had started. He had intended to walk down into the town centre and visit the Christmas market and to treat himself to some crepes and a cup of tea inside a warm little hut festooned with garlands. He’d hoped Crowley would join him, but hadn’t had chance to ask before it became apparent that his festive little trip into town would not be happening. Now he was injured, trapped inside by the storm, and had to find some way to cope with the relentless proximity to Crowley, the most wonderful creature ever to walk the Earth, that he would be enduring for the rest of the evening.

“Fine, but we should order dinner as well.”

“All taken care of, Tracy will bring it up in a bit. Right...” Crowley stood up from the side of the bath and headed for the door, unhooking Aziraphale’s pyjamas and handing them to him. Relieved that he would finally be wearing something, Aziraphale took them from him eagerly, and Crowley turned around while Aziraphale slipped on his tartan nightshirt and buttoned it up before arranging his pyjama bottoms around his ankles and awkwardly pulling them up.

“All right, I’m ready.”

Crowley wrapped his arm back around Aziraphale and helped him to stand, and let Aziraphale lean heavily against him as he hobbled into the bedroom, putting as little weight on his injured foot as possible. Aziraphale could feel the contours of Crowley’s body against his own, and was tempted to rest his head on his shoulder, but managed to restrain himself. When they reached the bed, Aziraphale collapsed down onto it and carefully lifted his foot, shuffling back to lean against the headboard, letting his eyelids fall closed, listening to the sound of the heavy rain pounding against the window pane. Aziraphale was exhausted, and were it not for the persistent growling of his stomach, he thought he could probably have fallen asleep right there and then.

“Champagne?” Crowley asked, prompting Aziraphale to open his eyes.

“Yes, why not?” Aziraphale relented, and Crowley grinned, pouring a second glass to accompany the one on the table that he’d already poured for himself. Aziraphale glanced to his side and furrowed his brow. “Did you eat the chocolates from the pillows?”

“No, of course not, I knew you’d want them. I just moved them out the way.”

“Oh... thank you.”

“Surprised you didn’t eat them while I was in the shower. Don’t pretend you didn’t think about it.”

“I...” Aziraphale began, and he could feel his cheeks, already flushed from the bath, growing even warmer. Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale loved the way his face lit up when he genuinely found something funny, and dipped his head and huffed out a breath, trying to disguise his reaction. Crowley crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed, and Aziraphale looked up at him, finding that Crowley’s expression had morphed back into one of affectionate concern, and that rapid shift, along with Crowley’s proximity, caused something to stir deep in Aziraphale’s gut. He protectively draped his arms across his stomach, his hands latching onto his forearms. Crowley set Aziraphale’s champagne glass on the bedside table.

“You know I’m just teasing, right?”

“Yes, of course. It’s all right; I don’t mind.”

“I just know you have a fondness for sweet things.”

“Like you,” Aziraphale murmured softly.

“What?” Crowley breathed, shuffling a little closer.

“Like _you_ do,” Aziraphale covered, internally cringing. “I know you do. You just pretend not to.”

Crowley produced a series of unintelligible sounds to express his objection to that statement, then rose from the bed, withdrawing one of the chocolates from where he’d hidden it behind the ice bucket the champagne had arrived in. He unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth, talking around it as he chewed. “That cost you a chocolate.”

“A small price to pay to be proven right,” Aziraphale countered, summoning all the strength he could to participate in their usual banter. They locked eyes with each other, and Aziraphale’s stomach flopped over, his body jolting when the moment was broken by a knock at the door.

“That’ll be dinner.”

Aziraphale took a moment while Crowley’s back was turned to him to try to compose himself. ‘Sweet things like you’... how could he have let something like that slip out?

Aziraphale could hear Crowley thanking Tracy, and a few moments later he was heading over to the table carrying a tray of food.

“Roast turkey dinner. How many of these have you had so far this month?” Crowley chuckled.

“Four, I think. This will be five, and it’ll be nine or ten before the month is over.”

“Looks good though,” Crowley smiled, but at this point Aziraphale felt like he would have eaten anything, damn his standards to hell, and the smell of it was making his mouth water. Crowley set one of the plates on the table and then carried the tray holding the other plate over to Aziraphale. “Here you go.”

Aziraphale smiled gratefully and took the tray from him, balancing it on his lap, and eagerly took his first bite, unable to stop the satisfied moan that escaped him.

“Mmmm... this is _very_ good!”

“Ngk.”

Aziraphale didn’t quite shovel the food into his mouth, he simply enjoyed his meal exuberantly, and when he finished he placed the tray at his side on the bed and patted his stomach. “That was scrumptious!”

“Yeah, sounded like you were enjoying it,” Crowley mumbled, before raising his voice to ask, “Got room for strawberries?”

“There’s _always_ room for dessert, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled, taking another sip of his champagne, thankfully placing it back down before there was another flash of lightning and rumble of thunder, making him jump. “Gosh, I do hope the storm has passed by morning.”

“I’m sure it will have.” Crowley took the tray off the bed and left it on the table, returning to sit by Aziraphale’s side on the edge of the bed and handing him a bowl full of strawberries and cream. “Enjoy.”

“They look scrummy! Aren’t you having any?”

“Nah, I’m all right.”

Aziraphale expected Crowley to get back up and maybe go back to sitting at the table, but he didn’t, he just sat beside him, so close that Aziraphale could feel the warmth radiating from him. Aziraphale scooped up a strawberry and a plentiful amount of cream, moaning once again when the flavours hit his tongue. It was absolutely _delicious_. Crowley shifted beside him, and they locked eyes again for a moment, before the lightning flashed again, the thunder roared, and the lights flickered for a few seconds before dimming completely, plunging them into darkness.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, not again!” Crowley groaned, fishing his phone out of his pocket and activating the torch.

“We’re not having the best luck, are we?”

“You could say that.” Crowley placed his phone down on the bed, drooping forward with his head in his hands, letting out an exasperated sigh. When Crowley didn’t immediately straighten back up, Aziraphale felt he should do something to comfort him, and tentatively placed his palm on the small of Crowley’s back.

“It’s all right, I’m sure it’s nothing serious. We can’t be _that_ unlucky! The power will probably be back on any minute now,” Aziraphale murmured soothingly. When Crowley still didn’t move, Aziraphale started rubbing his hand up and down over his back, and Crowley’s body folded even further forward, which Aziraphale wouldn’t have known whether to interpret as a good sign or a bad one if Crowley hadn’t sighed contentedly.

“Feels good.”

Heat was building deep in Aziraphale's abdomen. The sensation of Crowley sitting right beside him, the feel of his firm muscles beneath his soft cotton T-shirt as he stroked his back, the way Crowley continued to sigh as he relaxed beneath Aziraphale’s touch, it was all too much for Aziraphale to even hope to ignore. Aziraphale didn’t know what to say, and knew he couldn’t just abruptly stop what he was doing, so he just focused on maintaining a steady rhythm as he smoothed his hand up and down over the fabric.

“Thank you so much,” Crowley whispered.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you...” Aziraphale began, not really sure how to finish that sentence.

“Nah, I’m fine. ‘m just tired. I’m not moving again.”

“No, me neither.”

There was a knock at the door, and Aziraphale experienced a pang of guilt at being unable to answer it to save Crowley from having to interact with anyone while he was feeling so tired. Crowley, quite reluctantly it seemed, rose from the bed and dragged himself over to the door. When he opened it, the light of a torch shone into the room.

“Oh goodness, my dears, I’m so sorry about this! You really are having terrible luck, aren’t you?” Tracy stated the obvious, bustling into the room. “Not to worry, young Newt downstairs says he’ll have the power back on before we know it! But in the meantime, I’ve brought you some candles, and a spare blanket in case you get cold. I’m afraid the boiler won’t work without the electric.”

Aziraphale watched as Tracy set up the candles on the table, striking a match to light them. Wonderful. That’s just what this ridiculously romantic honeymoon suite Aziraphale was spending the night in with the man he was absolutely crazy about needed – the soft, warm glow of _candlelight_. He looked up towards the heavens and narrowed his eyes.

Tracy gave Aziraphale a friendly smile as she popped the blanket down on the end of the bed, then scooped up the tray with their empty dinner plates and wished them a good night. Aziraphale reached out and tried to grab the blanket without moving his foot; he might as well try to retain the warmth he’d built up, for some reason he didn’t have much faith in this ‘young Newt’ that Tracy had mentioned. Realising he couldn’t reach far enough, Aziraphale decided it wasn’t worth it and leaned back against the headboard, but the next thing he knew, Crowley was beside him once again, draping the blanket over him.

“Oh... erm... thank you.”

Crowley picked up his phone and turned off the torch, and that really did it, the room now illuminated only by the flickering flames of the candles, shadows dancing over Crowley’s handsome features. How was it even _possible_ for him to look even more attractive?

Eager for a distraction, Aziraphale returned his attention to his bowl of strawberries, and suddenly realised how much he wanted a cup of tea. Of course, with the power off, they couldn’t use the kettle, and there was nothing quite like not being _able_ to make a cup of tea to make Aziraphale desperately want one.

Aziraphale finished another mouthful of strawberries, and caught Crowley looking at him strangely.

“What? What is it?”

“You have cream on your face,” Crowley smirked, pointing at the corner of his own mouth. _Oh God_... Aziraphale dabbed his face with the back of his hand. “No, not there...” Crowley huffed, reaching out and stroking his thumb just to the edge of Aziraphale’s lip. When he withdrew it, it was covered with cream, and Crowley raised it to his mouth, parted his lips, and his tongue darted out to lick it off. Apparently not being able to make a cup of tea was the least of Aziraphale’s concerns; not being able to _breathe_ surely ranked higher.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly, and returned his attention to the strawberries, finishing them off while Crowley sat beside him in silence. Aziraphale wondered whether he should start stroking his back again, but decided he’d better not. He leaned over to place the empty bowl on the bedside table, sucking in a sharp breath when he felt a twinge in his shoulder. He saw Crowley tense beside him.

“You all right?”

“Ah, yes, I think so. I knocked my shoulder on the bathtub when I fell. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Want me to rub it for you?”

“What? Why?” Aziraphale responded reflexively, his heart racing with the thought of Crowley touching him again. It crossed Aziraphale’s mind that this whole thing might be a practical joke, something dreamed up by the Finance team to get back at HR for all the trouble they were believed to have caused. He quickly dismissed it. The ‘demonic powers’ of the Finance team didn’t quite stretch to controlling the weather.

“Just thought it might help. Sorry.”

“No, please, don’t be sorry. I just... I feel like I’ve imposed on you enough, my dear.”

“It’s hardly an imposition.” Crowley shuffled up the bed, bringing him even closer, and Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He was trying desperately hard to keep his breathing slow and rhythmic, when what he really felt like doing was hyperventilating. “I’d like to, if you’ll let me.”

“You’re very kind to me.”

“Nah, m’not kind. Are you saying yes?”

“Yes, Crowley, I’d like that,” said Aziraphale’s mouth, while his brain screamed a contradictory, and rather protracted, ‘no’ (but was ultimately defeated two-to-one in the vote, in which another part of Aziraphale’s anatomy had felt the need to have its say).

Aziraphale winced again as he shuffled down the bed, making room for Crowley, who clambered up behind him and rested back against the headboard, his legs crossed in front of him and nudging against Aziraphale’s lower back.

“Show me where it hurts,” Crowley murmured softly, and Aziraphale squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wondering how he would ever get through this, twisting slightly to reach back and poke at the painful area on his shoulder. “Here?” Crowley checked, applying some light pressure. Aziraphale flinched when he touched him, but at least that could be ascribed to the discomfort he was feeling.

“Yes.”

“All right, let’s see what I can do.”

Crowley’s fingertips pressed into Aziraphale’s muscles as he rubbed his shoulder in small, slow circular motions. Aziraphale sighed and tried to relax into his touch. It was a little awkward, the fabric of his pyjama shirt bunching up and catching as Crowley moved his hands, and Aziraphale wished he could actually feel Crowley’s hands against his skin.

“You can take your shirt off, if you like,” Crowley suggested, as though reading his mind.

“Oh... erm... no, I think I’d better try to keep warm.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Crowley pressed his thumbs into Aziraphale’s scapula and worked them upwards in a series of gentle sweeping motions, and Aziraphale rolled his shoulders and instinctively shuffled closer. “I could... I mean, if you were ok with it, I could put my hands under your shirt. Just, this might be more effective without anything in the way.”

Crowley seemed a little hesitant with his suggestion, and Aziraphale’s heart sank at the realisation that he must have given Crowley the impression that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with what he was doing. He would need to do something to correct that. Crowley was being incredibly generous, and Aziraphale suspected he did actually feel guilty about Aziraphale’s fall.

“Yes, good idea, thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley carefully lifted the hem of Aziraphale’s nightshirt and slipped his hands beneath the fabric, his nails scratching slightly against Aziraphale’s skin as they glided up towards his shoulder. Aziraphale sucked in a breath and tensed reflexively.

“Hey, it’s ok. Just relax for me.”

“Sorry.”

“Are my hands cold?”

“No... that just tickled a bit,” Aziraphale half-lied. It was _sort of_ a tickle, manifesting in one particular part of his anatomy.

“Sorry. Should be ok now.”

Crowley resumed his previous motions, now unencumbered by the fabric, and Aziraphale made a conscious effort to keep his muscles relaxed as he focused on the sensation of Crowley’s skilful hands gliding over his skin. When Crowley pressed a little more firmly, Aziraphale arched his back and leaned into it, letting out a soft, involuntary moan.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No... no, it’s good. Really good,” Aziraphale reassured him breathlessly.

“Right. Wow. Ok.”

Crowley audibly swallowed and shifted back away from him a little, and Aziraphale wondered whether he’d gone a bit too far with his efforts to reassure Crowley that he was comfortable and enjoying what he was doing.

Crowley continued massaging Aziraphale’s shoulder, Aziraphale restricting himself to soft sighs of contentment in response, and Aziraphale didn’t realise he’d been leaning further and further back until he actually bumped into Crowley.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, you can lean back if you like. Hang on.”

Crowley grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and then uncrossed his legs, placing the pillow between them and then resting his hands on both of Aziraphale’s shoulders and gently pulling him towards him, encouraging him to lie back so that his lower back was pressed against the pillow. It was best not to think about what was on the other side of the pillow. Definitely best not to think about that, nor the fact that Aziraphale was literally sitting between Crowley’s legs, Crowley's thighs pinning him in place on either side of his body.

Crowley’s hands started to drift further and further away from the site of Aziraphale’s injury, and although part of him felt he should insist that Crowley had done enough and there was really no need for him to be so kind and generous, Aziraphale really didn’t want him to stop, no longer aware of the pain from his injuries and feeling completely blissful and content. Unfortunately, Aziraphale was starting to think he might _have_ _to_ ask Crowley to stop quite soon, as if he were being honest, he was starting to feel more than just a little aroused, which was completely unacceptable. Aziraphale tensed and shifted on the bed, the pillow pressing into his back. He heard Crowley suck in a breath and his hands stilled. Aziraphale cursed himself, he was really making a mess of this.

“Are you all right, my dear?” he asked sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Crowley grunted, his voice a little deeper than usual. He cleared his throat. “You’re just... are you not comfortable? You’ve been _wriggling_.”

“Oh. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Does that feel better now?” Crowley asked, withdrawing his hands from underneath Aziraphale’s nightshirt. Aziraphale experienced a pang of regret, he didn’t want Crowley to stop because he thought Aziraphale _wanted_ him to, although it was probably for the best.

“Yes, much better, thank you.”

“Good. Right, well then, what do you want to do now?” Crowley carefully drew his legs back towards him and then shuffled onto the other side of the bed, propping himself up with the pillow behind him. “Not that there’s much we _can_ do. I could probably just do with getting some sleep.”

“Yes, me too, that’s a good idea.”

Crowley seemed closed off suddenly, and something was gnawing at Aziraphale’s insides. He hadn’t meant to offend him. He wanted to apologise, but didn’t know what to say, and Crowley evidently didn’t want to talk to him right now if he was suggesting just going to sleep.

“Shit! I should have asked Tracy for another blanket! I’ll have to pop downstairs.”

“This blanket is warmer than it looks, I’m sure you’ll be all right once you get under it.”

“I’m not taking the blanket off you; the sheets on the bed won’t be warm enough on their own.”

“It’s big enough to cover the whole bed, Crowley.” Aziraphale straightened out the blanket and passed one of the corners to Crowley. He wanted to lean over and drape it over him, but thought better of it. “We’ll both just have to try not to steal it.”

“Nhhhhmmngk.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“You’re not suggesting we _share_ the bed?” Oh God he sounded _horrified_. Aziraphale hadn’t even considered otherwise, after all, there was nowhere else in the room for either of them to sleep. Not that Aziraphale thought he would be getting the most restful night’s sleep of his life knowing that Crowley was there beside him, but still.

“What were you going to suggest?”

“I was going to sleep on the floor.”

“You can’t do that! It’ll be cold and uncomfortable!”

“I can’t sleep in the same bed as you, Aziraphale!” Crowley protested, and Aziraphale swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat. Crowley had seemed so comfortable taking care of him, it hadn’t occurred to him that he would baulk at the idea of sharing a bed. “What if... what if I kick your foot or something?”

“Oh, is that what you’re concerned about?” Aziraphale sighed and relaxed a little. “Well, if we swap sides so you’re lying on my left, I can keep my foot well out of your way.”

“Are you... are you sure you’re ok with this?”

“Crowley, I will not have you sleeping on the floor!”

“Right,” Crowley mumbled. “Let’s swap then.”

Crowley did the sensible thing and actually got up from the bed, walking around it while Aziraphale carefully lifted his foot and shuffled over to the other side, before performing what was probably an unnecessarily complicated manoeuvre to get underneath the sheets before pulling the blanket over him as well. Crowley slithered under the sheets on the other side.

“Shit! The candles!” Crowley grumbled, bouncing back out of the bed. “I should blow them out, yeah?”

“Yes, if we’re going to be sleeping, just to be on the safe side.”

Crowley sauntered over to the table and blew out the candles, plunging the room back into darkness. Aziraphale could hear Crowley grip onto the wooden posts at the end of the bed, and then heard the sheets rustle as he climbed back in.

“Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Crowley.”

Aziraphale wriggled about a bit to get comfortable, taking a deep breath and listening to the wind howling outside and the rain battering the window. His foot was throbbing, but overall Aziraphale felt very peaceful, content and comfortable, except... _oh dear_.

“Crowley?”

“Mmm.”

“I need to use the facilities.”

“You’re joking.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Mmmrrrr. All right.”

Aziraphale heard the clattering of metal against ceramic, apparently Crowley had knocked the bowl Aziraphale had left on the bedside table from his strawberries and cream. There was the sound of something scraping against wood, and then the room was illuminated by the torch on Crowley’s phone.

Crowley slithered back out from under the sheets and circled the bed again, coming over to Aziraphale’s side and holding his arms out to him. Aziraphale smiled bashfully and shuffled up into a seated position, pressing his good foot down against the carpet and reaching out for Crowley, who lifted him up and encouraged him to lean against him. Aziraphale hobbled, leaning his weight against Crowley, to the bathroom.

Aziraphale took the opportunity to brush his teeth as well before emerging, and then Crowley helped him back into bed before he too decided it would be a good idea to use the bathroom. A few minutes later, they were both tucked up back in the bed. Aziraphale as glad of it, with the heating off, the temperature in the room had already started to dip.

“Goodnight, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered again.

“Goodnight, angel,” Crowley sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what's going to happen next? Hahahahahahaaaa this is fun ;-) Thank you for your kudos and comments I really appreciate them! <3


	3. Ether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the middle of the night and it's very cold, only one thing for it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed I've sneakily added another chapter. This chapter is the final chapter of the fic, but there will be a bonus alternative scene in chapter 4 - I'll explain later. ;-) Hope you enjoy your next serving of tropey goodness! :-)

Aziraphale woke up still surrounded by darkness, quickly becoming aware of movement beside him. The sheets were rustling persistently, and he could hear Crowley breathing rapidly. He was shivering. It wasn’t surprising, the temperature in the room had plummeted, the cold air a shock to Aziraphale’s lungs as he breathed.

“Crowley? Crowley, are you all right?”

“Mmm. Just cold. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t worry about that. Have you put any more layers on?”

“No. Didn’t want to wake you,” Crowley repeated, his voice catching as he shivered.

“Well, I’m awake now.”

“Don’t have anything warm anyway. Just work stuff.”

“Well, I have a nice warm jumper in my suitcase; I’ll fetch it for you.”

“Nmmrrr, your foot,” Crowley protested in between shuddering, shivery breaths.

“I can crawl along the floor if I need to. I’m not having you get out of bed, you’ll get even colder and it’ll defeat the object.”

“Don’t do that! I’m fine.”

Aziraphale experimentally flexed his foot a couple of times. It still ached, but the sharp pain had dulled somewhat.

“My foot is already feeling a little better, I’ll be fine. Probably not a sprain after all.”

“Angel!” Crowley hissed as Aziraphale shuffled to the edge of the bed, the cold air striking him as he carefully lifted the sheets, not wanting Crowley to feel a draught. He considered asking Crowley to put his torch on, but he didn’t want him to have to reach out from under the blanket, so he used his memory of the room, and his hands, which he occasionally waved about a bit in front of him to make sure he wasn’t about to crash into anything, to crawl across the carpet to find his suitcase. About halfway across the room it occurred to him how preposterous this whole situation was. This was another good reason to do this in the dark, at least Crowley couldn’t watch him crawling around with one foot sticking up in the air.

Aziraphale finally made it to his suitcase and opened it up, feeling around inside for his big, thick comfy jumper. Then he began the arduous journey back to the bed, clutching at the mattress from his position on the floor to drag himself back up, scrambling unceremoniously back up onto it and hurriedly pulling the sheets and blanket around him.

“Here,” he whispered, nudging the jumper vaguely in Crowley’s direction until he felt it being tugged away from him. There was a lot of rustling and shuffling about, until Crowley settled back down, presumably wearing the jumper.

“Can’t believe you just did that.”

“You’re very welcome, Crowley.”

Aziraphale lay awake, heart aching as Crowley continued to shiver. He wanted nothing more than to shuffle over to his side of the bed and take him into his arms, sharing whatever warmth he had. After about ten minutes of Crowley’s violent shivering, Aziraphale decided this might actually not be a terrible idea. He had to do _something_.

“Crowley?”

“Mmmrrrm.”

“I’m worried about you being so cold. How would you feel about... would you be comfortable if I... I mean, I could come closer to you, help you to warm up?”

“Nhhh.”

“Is that a no?”

“Don’t want to make you cold.”

“Please let me help you.”

“This whole situation is ridiculous,” Crowley growled, his teeth chattering.

“I know, Crowley, but apparently we’re stuck with it. Please? You helped me so much earlier. Unless you’re not comfortable with it, of course, I would completely understand if...”

“Nnnnhhh. Yes, all right. Thanks.”

Aziraphale shuffled close to Crowley, taking care to keep his injured foot out of the way, and then wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close so that Crowley’s back was pressed up against his chest. The cosy jumper he’d given to Crowley felt soft under his hands, and Aziraphale experienced a thrill from the idea of Crowley wearing it, tucking his head into the crook of Crowley’s neck and running his hands vigorously up and down his arms to try to warm him.

Crowley snuggled back against him and Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. He stilled his hands and just pressed his arms across Crowley’s chest, trying to squeeze some warmth into him. Crowley’s hair felt so incredibly soft against Aziraphale’s cheek, and he rubbed against it slightly, savouring this opportunity to be so close to him. Crowley sighed and made a completely unintelligible sound, and Aziraphale tensed, afraid his actions had been a little too intimate.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

“F’what? Feels good. Warm. How’re you so warm?”

“I’m not really. It’s all relative I suppose. We don’t really notice temperature so much as we notice _changes_ in temperature...”

“You feel warm. Thank you.”

“I do hope you can get some sleep now.”

“Mmm,” Crowley hummed in response, pressing back against Aziraphale even harder, his breathing now slow and steady.

“Sweet dreams, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered into his hair. It was so tempting to plant a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, but of course, Aziraphale couldn’t afford to give into such temptation. This was more than enough, the feeling of having Crowley in his arms, knowing that he was giving him warmth and comfort and helping him to sleep. Aziraphale could deal with the agony of living with the fact that this was merely a matter of circumstance and would almost certainly never happen again when the sun came up. For now, he just breathed in the scent of the B&B’s apple shampoo and held onto Crowley until he fell asleep.

As soon as Aziraphale woke up, even before he opened his eyes, he was immediately aware of his proximity to Crowley. Actually, ‘proximity’ was something of an understatement. Although Aziraphale’s injured foot was still stuck out to his right, safely out of harm’s way, he was lying on his side with his left leg completely entangled with both of Crowley’s, his knee between Crowley’s thighs. With Crowley’s arm draped over him, Aziraphale’s head was resting on Crowley’s chest, and he could feel the gentle rise and fall of Crowley’s ribs as he breathed. Aziraphale’s hand had also settled on Crowley’s chest, the fabric of his T-shirt warm and soft beneath it. Warm. Crowley felt _warm_ , and so did the air on Aziraphale’s cheek. Apparently the heating was back on, and Aziraphale realised that Crowley must have taken his jumper off at some point during the night.

Aziraphale opened his eyes, squinting against the unexpected artificial light. Of course, neither of them had flicked off the light switch before they’d got into bed. Well, at least that confirmed the power was back on. The room was quiet, save for the quiet running of water through the pipes to the radiator and Crowley’s rhythmic breaths, the storm now passed, the wind and rain no longer beating the window. It was peaceful.

Aziraphale shifted very carefully, tilting his head up slightly to look at Crowley. His head was turned towards Aziraphale, but a strand of hair had fallen over his face, so Aziraphale moved his hand from Crowley’s chest to reach up and tenderly brush it out of the way, tucking it behind Crowley’s ear. He was outrageously handsome, even more so than normal just now, looking so serene and content as he slept. Aziraphale smiled and nuzzled his head back against Crowley’s chest, once again breathing in the scent of him and listening to the sound of his heart beating. He brought his hand back down to rest over Crowley’s sternum. Aziraphale would have loved to be able to wake up like this with Crowley again, and although there was a small voice inside his mind telling him he should probably extricate himself from Crowley, he was feeling _very_ comfortable and decided to pay it no mind.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and smiled against Crowley’s T-shirt, letting his hand stroke lightly up and down his chest. He felt _incredible_. Aziraphale let his mind drift, focusing in turn on each part of his body that was in contact with Crowley and the feel of Crowley’s arms and legs wrapped around him. It was like a dream come true. Aziraphale twitched his leg slightly, feeling it slide against Crowley’s bare calves, arousal starting to build even at that insignificant amount of contact. Aziraphale grimaced. It was one thing to _hold_ Crowley but to start feeling like _that_... as much as it pained him, he would have to move away. Aziraphale stilled the hand that had been gliding over Crowley’s chest and began to carefully lift his knee to extract it from between Crowley’s legs.

“Mmmrrr,” Crowley mumbled, and Aziraphale froze. Crowley’s arm, which had been draped over Aziraphale, moved down, his hand settling on Aziraphale’s thigh, pressing down gently and holding him in place. “Please don’t move.” Crowley released Aziraphale’s thigh and covered his hand on his chest. “Please. I liked the way you were touching me.”

Aziraphale’s heart started racing and his breathing quickened. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.”

“I’m really sorry, Crowley, I wasn’t really thinking...”

“Please, angel, it was so nice. Please don’t stop.” Crowley nudged Aziraphale’s hand with his own, encouraging him to move it, and Aziraphale experimentally crooked his fingers, his fingertips grazing against Crowley’s T-shirt. Crowley released Aziraphale’s hand and sighed, rolling his head back on the pillow. Aziraphale’s heart fluttered.

_He likes me touching him. He **likes** it._

Aziraphale became a little bolder, flattening his palm and sweeping it across Crowley’s chest, over his ribs and down to his stomach, and Crowley gasped, bringing his hand up to the side of his face and clutching at the pillow. “Yes, angel, thank you... I _love_ that.”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heating and nuzzled his face into Crowley’s shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, Crowley.”

Aziraphale pressed his palm more firmly against Crowley, moving it up over his sternum and up to his shoulder and then down his side, squeezing gently just above his hip.

“Oh God, yes, angel, that’s so good...”

Aziraphale squirmed, Crowley’s enthusiastic response to his simple touch a little overwhelming. Crowley couldn’t actually want... _surely_... could he?

Aziraphale shifted to look at Crowley. His head was still tilted back on the pillow, eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily.

“You feel nice, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, trailing his fingertips down to play with the hem of Crowley’s T-shirt, not quite finding the courage to slide his hand underneath it.

“Hhhh... _please_ , angel.”

Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure what Crowley was asking him for until Crowley grabbed hold of his hand and tried to push it underneath his T-shirt. Aziraphale gasped, his heart beating harder as he yielded to Crowley’s wishes. Actually being able to touch Crowley with no barriers between them ignited a fire inside of Aziraphale, completely taking his breath away. He propped himself up slightly to look down at Crowley, who opened in his eyes in response to Aziraphale’s movement and smiled at him like he was in awe.

“I can’t believe you’re touching me. This feels _amazing_.”

Aziraphale swept his hand through Crowley’s hair, and Crowley’s eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted. Aziraphale watched him with wonder, finding it hard to believe that he was actually capable of making Crowley feel good by touching him.

“I want to touch you too. Please?”

“Yes, Crowley, of course.” Aziraphale was surprised by how breathless he was already, just from the sensation of touching Crowley and witnessing his response. He wasn’t sure how he would cope with Crowley actually touching _him_ , but he wanted it more than anything.

Crowley beamed at him and rolled onto his side, and Aziraphale settled his head on the pillow so that they were facing each other. Aziraphale didn’t even try to disguise the rapid rise and fall of his chest as Crowley reached out and began tracing swirling patterns over the fabric of his nightshirt. Crowley teasingly poked his fingers through the gaps between the buttons, grazing Aziraphale’s chest, and Aziraphale sucked in a breath.

“Undo them, if you want,” he whispered, and Crowley’s smile widened. He looked so incredibly _happy_ , Aziraphale wasn’t really sure how to process it. He knew that Crowley enjoyed his company, and of course last night he had seemed particularly comfortable being close to Aziraphale, but Aziraphale could never have imagined that Crowley might actually want this kind of intimacy with him.

Crowley used one hand to work his way down the buttons on Aziraphale’s nightshirt, popping them open one by one and trailing his fingertips over the skin he exposed, while his other hand grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s and squeezed it tightly. For a long while they lay like that, hands clasped together while their free hands tenderly explored each other’s bodies, eyes locked on each other, smiling.

“I’ve wanted to be close to you like this for a long time,” Crowley murmured. “Waking up in your arms was like a dream come true.”

“Crowley, that’s very kind of you to say, but...”

“But what? Do you not... do you not want to be with me like that?”

“Of course I do! I would _love_ that! I just can’t believe you would actually want that with me.”

“Oh, angel... you really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” Crowley softly carded his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair and then gently brushed the back of his hand across his cheek.

“But Crowley, you’re perfect.”

“I think you’re perfect too.”

Crowley shuffled a little closer on the pillow so their noses brushed together, and Aziraphale’s heart leapt with anticipation. Crowley tilted his head, bringing his lips mere millimetres away from Aziraphale’s, their breath mingling, and Aziraphale felt an invisible force pulling him through the ether towards Crowley to close what little distance remained between them, as he finally pressed their lips together.

Crowley hummed against his mouth, and they pulled each other closer, Crowley pushing his hand underneath Aziraphale’s open nightshirt and clutching at his back as their lips moved against each other. He started rubbing small circles against Aziraphale’s shoulder, just like he had done the night before. Aziraphale moaned, and Crowley broke their kiss, scrutinising him.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked breathlessly, anxiety starting to build in his stomach.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Crowley’s expression softened back into a fond smile, but Aziraphale tensed. “Hey, it’s ok angel, nothing’s wrong, I promise. I was just thinking about last night, when I was doing this...” Crowley pressed a little more firmly and swept his hand over Aziraphale’s shoulder blade, drawing another soft moan from him. “Were you enjoying it? I mean, _really_ enjoying it? Is that why you were wriggling so much?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Does that mean yes?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale could easily detect the note of hope in his voice. Knowing that Crowley _wanted_ to make him feel that way stoked the fire burning inside him, and he pressed his face into the pillow self-consciously. “It’s ok, if you were. I was too. That’s why I stopped, you kept wriggling against the pillow. It felt _amazing_.”

“I thought I’d made you feel uncomfortable,” Aziraphale mumbled into the pillow before tilting his head back up to look at Crowley.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Crowley smirked, and then he winked at Aziraphale, and even lying down Aziraphale felt his legs turn to jelly. “You’re very special to me, Aziraphale. I’m so happy.”

“I am too.”

“I’m even happier than when you showed me that video you recorded of Gabriel getting his fancy scarf caught in the shredder.”

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten about that!” Aziraphale giggled, and Crowley beamed at him.

“Looks like it’s still dark out. Why don’t I get up and turn the light off? I’d love to fall asleep and wake up in your arms again.”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Crowley kissed him one more time and then slid out from under the sheets and crossed the room to turn off the light. Now that the storm had passed, the world seemed still and tranquil. Crowley climbed back into the bed and shuffled close to Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around him and encouraging him back into the position they had woken up in, with Aziraphale’s head resting on his chest, Crowley’s heart now beating faster in his ear.

“Sweet dreams, angel,” Crowley whispered, and Aziraphale experienced a warm glow in his chest when he felt Crowley kiss the top of his head.

“Sweet dreams, Crowley.”

When they woke up, once again in each other’s arms, sunlight was streaming through the window and a blackbird and a robin were singing enthusiastically outside. They stayed in bed for a while, neither concerned about missing the first session of the conference, just cuddling and kissing, and Aziraphale couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

When they eventually got up, Crowley helped Aziraphale out of the bed, but they were both pleased to discover that Aziraphale could put more weight on his foot now, and although he’d be hobbling around a bit, he’d be able to get by. They got dressed and headed downstairs to eat breakfast, before meeting Tracy at the reception desk to check out.

“I hope you managed to sleep well, despite everything.”

“We did, thank you,” Aziraphale smiled before gazing out of the large bay windows. It was bright and sunny outside, a perfect December morning. Since they were going to miss the first session anyway, he wondered whether he might be able to persuade Crowley to have a quick look at the Christmas market. His foot was still a little sore but he was sure he could manage it with Crowley there for him to lean on.

“I’m very pleased to hear it. I hope you have a lovely day,” Tracy said politely. Aziraphale and Crowley smiled fondly at each other, and Crowley picked up Aziraphale’s suitcase before grabbing the handle to wheel his own, stepping towards the door. “Don’t forget the mistletoe,” she added, and Aziraphale looked up, seeing a bough of mistletoe just above the door. He didn’t remember it being there last night, but then again they had been rather distracted when they’d come in. He raised his eyebrows, and Crowley grinned, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Aziraphale wrapped his arm around Crowley’s waist, using him for support, as they made their way out into the sunshine.

Newt came bustling out of the door behind the reception desk, looking extremely sheepish.

“I’m so sorry about last night, Madame Tracy, I really thought what I was doing would _protect_ the electrics from damage in the storm.”

“Don’t you worry, love,” Tracy beamed as she watched through the window as the two men walked away, huddled close together. “You did everything you were supposed to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you again for your kudos and comments I really appreciate them! :-) <3
> 
> I will very shortly be adding 'chapter 4', which is a completely ridiculous alternative scene from chapter 1 inspired by rapunzel713, which can basically be summed up as "there was only one shower". T rating still applies though! ;-)


	4. There was only one shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's completely preposterous, but so is this whole trope-filled fic (and I love it hahahaha) so what the hell: alternative scene for chapter 1, they get to the room and they're both absolutely freezing... why not share the shower??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated this story twice today so please make sure you've read chapter 3 first, which is the conclusion of the main fic! This is a bonus 'alternative scene' chapter!
> 
> For a brief moment, rapunzel713 read the chapter 1 line “he wanted nothing more than to get into the room and strip off, maybe jump right in the shower... but of course Crowley would be there with him” differently from how I intended, inspiring this! Completely ridiculous but I hope you enjoy it! ;-) Blame rapunzel713 for the inspiration and when you get to the “big deal indeed” thing, that one’s Oniria_Creation’s fault. ;-)

"Ugh, fuck, I can't wait to get in the shower!" Crowley grimaced as he pulled off his shirt and threw it onto the floor, where it landed with a wet splat.

"No, me neither." Aziraphale tugged at the sodden fabric of his collar, peeling it away from his neck. Hopefully Crowley would be quick. He was certainly _undressing_ quickly enough.

"You gonna shower in your clothes?" Crowley raised an eyebrow as he unbuckled his belt, and Aziraphale had to force his eyes upwards to look at Crowley’s face instead.

"What? No, of course not. Not that it could get them any wetter."

"Then why aren't you taking them off? Euuhhhh..." Crowley groaned as he kicked off one of his shoes and his sock squelched against the carpet. "Aren’t you uncomfortable? I couldn't wait to get mine off.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Aziraphale let his eyes wander over Crowley’s delectable body for a moment. “I'll get undressed when you've finished in the shower.”

"You can't just stand there in your wet clothes! Do you want to go first?"

"No, of course not, I know you feel the cold more than I do."

"You're absolutely soaked through!"

The other shoe came off, and then Crowley squelched the few steps to the bathroom, flicking on the light and peering inside.

"'S big enough for two."

"You can't actually be suggesting what I infer you're implying."

"Come on, it's no big deal. It's just a shower, like at the football club."

Yes, because that's _exactly_ what showering with the most handsome man in existence... in the honeymoon suite of a B&B... during a thunderstorm would be like, not that Aziraphale had ever been _in_ a football club to be able to comment on the difference. He shuddered violently.

"Fucking hell, Aziraphale!" Crowley growled, his teeth chattering. "Get out of those wet clothes or I'll do it for you!"

"Oh, all right! But you must promise not to look!"

"Of course I won't look! How long have we been friends? It's fine!"

Crowley unzipped his trousers, and at that point Aziraphale started frantically unbuttoning his own shirt, just to give his eyes something else to focus on. He was such a hypocrite for making Crowley promise not to look when he'd been ogling the man's bare chest as discreetly as he possibly could since the moment Crowley had taken his shirt off.

"I'll get the water running", Crowley suggested, his teeth chattering.

"Yes, all right." Aziraphale instinctively glanced up as he replied, out of politeness' sake, and immediately wished he hadn't, confronted by Crowley in boxer shorts that were soaked through and... clingy.

_‘No big deal’ indeed... it clearly **is** a big deal. Oh for goodness’ sake,_ y _ou're supposed to look into someone's **eyes** for politeness' sake when speaking to them, Good Lord!_

Thankfully Crowley didn't notice, as he was already on his way into the bathroom. Aziraphale heard the water switch on.

Oh dear.... he should have suggested they keep their pants on at least, after all, he hadn't been exaggerating, it wasn’t as though they could get any wetter. Maybe he should rush after Crowley and suggest this? Or maybe it was a given, Crowley surely couldn't intend for them to be naked together in the shower, could he? Aziraphale could just check what Crowley had opted to do when he got into the bathroom.... oh, but wouldn’t that involve _looking_?

Aziraphale winced as his trousers rubbed uncomfortably against him when he bent down to unfasten his shoes. _Why am I even considering this?_ he asked himself as he tugged off the rest of his clothes. Oh yes, because he was outrageously cold and shivering so hard it hurt, and if he refused, then wouldn’t Crowley read into it?

It wasn't as though the thought of showering with Crowley was distasteful in any way, quite the opposite, and although Aziraphale would be naked, there was also the fact that _Crowley_ would be naked, which made the scenario much more appealing. Not that Aziraphale would _look_. Obviously. Absolutely not. But he _would_ get to see the water running through Crowley's luscious hair, cascading over his face and down his neck... those were places he could look, _should_ look, weren't they? He had to look _somewhere_ , things could soon turn disastrous if he tried to get through the whole endeavour with his eyes closed... imagine if he reached out for the shower gel and ended up grabbing hold of something else.

With another violent shiver Aziraphale rushed into the bathroom. He didn't _look_ , but the flash of black in his peripheral vision told him that Crowley had indeed left his pants on. Aziraphale actually felt warmth bloom in his chest, that was actually a very sweet and considerate thing for Crowley to do given Aziraphale’s apprehension. Aziraphale felt rather grateful, there was absolutely no sense of disappointment whatsoever. Of course not.

Feeling more comfortable (and glad he hadn't been overzealous and got completely naked before coming into the bathroom), Aziraphale climbed into the shower, and Crowley immediately stepped out from under the spray and grabbed Aziraphale's shoulders, pulling him under it.

"You need to get warm.”

Aziraphale felt electric shocks shooting through his body from where Crowley had touched him, the shower hopefully drowning out his gasp. He squeezed his eyes closed, his skin burning and tingling uncomfortably where the warm water came into contact with his freezing cold flesh. He ran his hands through his hair and then scrubbed them across his eyes, moving his head out of the spray so he could look at Crowley.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good, I was worried about you.”

That warm glow in Aziraphale’s chest was expanding, and it had nothing to do with the warm water now coursing over him.

“Well, I’m warm now, I should get out of your way.”

“Nah, it’s fine, we’re in here now, might as well get on with it. You’ll get cold again if you stand out there wet, and there’s no point getting dry when you’d just be getting back in here. There’s plenty of room, it’s fine.”

For some reason, Crowley chose to make this point by stepping closer to Aziraphale, so they were standing face-to-face, possibly to prove that they could both fit underneath the large showerhead. He then reached behind Aziraphale, their arms brushing together in the process, and Aziraphale felt like he’d been set on fire. His breathing quickened, and he drew his arms in closer to himself.

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled, retracting his arm, a small bottle of complimentary shampoo now clutched in his hand. He held it out to Aziraphale, who baulked and leaned away. “I’m sure it’s not your usual fancy stuff, whatever it is that keeps those perfect curls of yours looking so soft and fluffy, but come on, given the circumstances I think it’ll do.”

Aziraphale tried not to pay too much attention to the fact Crowley thought of his hair as ‘soft and fluffy’, or even that Crowley had thought about his hair at all.

“I _have_ standards!”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and shook his head, squirting some of the shampoo onto his palm. He then reached out and deposited it in Aziraphale’s hair, the feel of Crowley’s fingernails grazing against his scalp making Aziraphale’s skin tingle, his knees threatening to buckle.

“Crowley!”

Crowley laughed, rubbing the shampoo quite tenderly into Aziraphale’s hair, and Aziraphale swallowed thickly, scowling fiercely at Crowley in response, the only expression he thought he could manage to disguise how he was truly feeling. Crowley’s laughter subsided and his expression changed completely. He withdrew his hands from Aziraphale’s hair and took a step back from him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I thought... earlier, I mean, I thought you were... never mind, nothing, sorry. I guess I was wrong. I’ll get out.”

“Crowley, wait, you’ll get cold. Let me just rinse this off and then _I’ll_ get out.”

Aziraphale ducked his head fully under the spray to wash out the shampoo, wondering what Crowley had been going to say. ‘I thought you were...’ _what_? Fun? Someone with a sense of humour? Comfortable with me? Aziraphale could just about make out the sound of Crowley talking, his voice distorted slightly by the water rushing past Aziraphale’s ears.

“I’m really sorry, Aziraphale, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Aziraphale’s stomach knotted. He didn’t want Crowley to think that. He couldn’t very well admit that having Crowley’s hands in his hair was one of the most arousing things he’d ever experienced in his life, but he really didn’t want him to think he was _uncomfortable_. He wiped his eyes and stepped closer to Crowley.

“No, Crowley, you didn’t, I’m sorry. I was just... I wasn’t being serious. That was fine. It was nice. I mean fine. Do you want me to get out now?” Aziraphale rambled, uncomfortably aware of his own tongue. He was beyond _warm_ now, he was burning up, and Crowley was watching him with great interest, different expressions flickering over his face.

“No...” Crowley murmured softly, still studying him as he tentatively threaded his fingers one more time through Aziraphale’s wet hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Aziraphale sucked in a deep breath and his chin tilted down towards his chest as he leaned into Crowley’s touch. “Does that feel nice?”

Aziraphale lifted his head back up, his lips parting but no sound emerging from them. He pressed his palm against the wall to steady himself.

“Do you want me to stop?” Crowley asked, dragging his fingertips lower, over the back of Aziraphale’s head and down to his hairline, lightly grazing his nape. Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head. Crowley’s eyes flashed and he lunged forward, cupping the back of Aziraphale’s neck and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Aziraphale’s hand abandoned the wall as he chose instead to steady himself on Crowley, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. Crowley hummed approvingly against his mouth as the warm water cascaded over them, Aziraphale experiencing a state of total bliss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Crowley panted when they finally separated, leaning his forehead against Aziraphale’s.

“So have I. Would you consider possibly... letting _me_ wash _your_ hair?” Aziraphale ventured timidly.

“Oh God, angel, yes, I’d _love_ that.”

They gave each other a beaming smile, and then Aziraphale picked up the shampoo and squeezed some onto his palm. 

Perhaps fortune was smiling on him today, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it soft, couldn't help myself. Thank you for reading!! :-)


End file.
